


Withdrawal

by Jinmukang



Series: Whumptober 2020 [22]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Cults, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Jason Todd is Robin, Kidnapping, Needles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rescue, Tho the cult tag is really just a mindset of the villains, Torture, Whumptober 2020, Withdrawal, drugged, jason todd is the one who gets the hug tho oop, no.22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinmukang/pseuds/Jinmukang
Summary: Dick and Jason find themselves captured together. However, these bad guys decide to torture Dick in a way that ends up hitting a little too close to home for Jason.And it only gets worse from there.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Whumptober 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946413
Comments: 38
Kudos: 253
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Withdrawal

**Author's Note:**

> day 22! woo!
> 
> By the way, JASON IS ROBIN

It's the same thing every day. The day begins with nothing. Just sitting here, with his hands chained to the wall, watching the table in front of him and waiting for Dick—who's strapped to the aforementioned table—to slowly wake up. Dick's been waking up later and later every day, but that's not really his fault. 

It's the drug's fault. But Jason's getting ahead of himself.

Because, after Dick wakes up, the shakes would begin. Dick will insist over and over again, every time Jason asks, that he's okay. But Jason doesn't believe him. He's seen this before in his own mother. As the day progresses, the symptoms would as well. The shakes would be joined by a sweaty parlor. Dick's stomach would grumble angrily. He'd constantly shift and move in his bindings in a clear state of anxiety, tugging at his wrists and ankles to the point that they began to bleed. 

By the time they bring lunch, Dick's barely able to keep a sentence, his voice wobbles so much and his memory begins to hold onto less and less. Their captors are practically formless, their faces and body types all hidden behind layers of cloaks and black masks. They don't speak either. They just toss Jason a bottle of water and a wrapped sandwich that definitely came from a gas station. Then, they spoon feed Dick some sort of broth with soggy vegetables and very unsatisfying looking chunks of meat. At first, Jason and Dick both refused to eat, even if the caps were sealed and the packaging untorn. 

But days passed. The withdrawal made Dick starving and malleable, willing to eat without arguing too much. With Jason, he started eating because it became clear that if they wanted to poison or drug him, they clearly would have already. 

After lunch, they were left alone again. For hours. Hours that Jason spent curled up against the wall, tearing strips into the plastic packaging of his eaten sandwich and tying knots with them… just to keep himself occupied as Dick would begin gagging and sniffing and groaning and trembling. Jason would look up at him every so often to see him deeper and deeper into withdrawal and being able to do nothing about it except writhe.

Hours would pass. Then, the people who captured them would come back with dinner. They'd confiscate Jason's plastic knots and braids, give him another sandwich, then immediately inject an unmarked syringe filled with a yellowish liquid straight into the crook of Dick's elbow. 

Dick would immediately go still. Silent. Lax. He'd stare at the ceiling, completely calm and breathing deep. At first, Dick didn't go so still so quickly. It's clear this kind of drug has some sort of tolerance that has to built up to. 

Dick screamed and jerked in his restraints the first time. Cried during the couple after. And isn't that strange? The guy is a legend. While Bruce doesn't talk about him often… Jason knows the legacy he's trying to carry while being Robin. He honestly can't believe that he's this guy's… adopted… younger brother. No one in Gotham doesn't know who the original Robin was. Jason's still trying to earn even a smidge of the same respect, even from the criminals. 

Sure, in the beginning, Dick and Jason started off a bit rough. But it ended out alright, yeah? Dick gave him his blessing to be Robin, and then handed him a slip of paper with his apartment's phone number. They went skiing a couple weeks ago, and Jason had a lot of fun. 

Dick Grayson is so perfect. And Jason's just watched him scream and struggle and sob because of drugs.

Jason really hates drugs. 

Now though, Jason's not sure if Dick's instant dissociation is better or worse. They've worked Dick up to a point where his body feels like it needs the drug more than air to breathe. The withdrawal is getting more and more intense every day that passes, to the point Jason's sure that if his mom… 

Well... to the point that most druggies would be taking multiple doses a day by now. 

"What do you shitheads want?" Jason asks for the billionth time. He tries to ask every time they enter the room. 

They don't answer. They never do. They don't even look his way. 

Jason's begun to think that he's just here as collateral. They haven't done anything to him. Not even an annoyed slap when Jason screamed his voice raw at them the third time they drugged Dick.

They just use Dick's gagging reflex to put more brothy soup in his mouth, and then they leave.

This is when it gets absolutely awful. Jason's known even before becoming Robin that when someone is this high, there's no point trying to talk to them. It's like his mom- it's like Dick isn't even in the room. It's just Jason, alone, sitting on the moth-eaten sofa and forcing himself to pay attention to  _ Treasure Island _ even though he's already read it a thousand times. 

No. No he doesn't sit on the couch. He sits against the cold wall, his tailbone aching, his wrists stinging against the shackles, trying to work up the energy to eat his sandwich while Dick falls deeper and deeper into a forced addiction. 

The night wears on. What Jason assumes is… the end of the ninth day? He's mostly measuring days by meals and when they come to drug Dick. The little cell they are chained up in doesn't have any windows to know for sure. Could be more than nine days, could be less. 

Jason does his best to just... ignore Dick, because it's this stretch of hours that has Jason's anxiety spiking the most. There's too many bad memories with drugs. Too many awful moments that conspired because of them. If he looks up, he won't see a completely relaxed and high-off-his-ass Dick Grayson. 

He'll see Catherine Todd, foam leaking from the corners of her mouth and her body colder than what it should be. He'll see the syringe still in her arm. He'll see a still chest. 

He busies himself by moving as much as the chains allow him. The tether to his shackled wrists is welded about half a foot above his head, and there's just enough length for him to touch a small diameter of stone floor around him. When he stands up, he's not able to lift his hands above his head. He's not able to move more than a few feet towards Dick. He makes the best of it though. He stretches as much as his shackles will allow. He leans forward against the wall and does makeshift pushups. He counts the links in the chain. He goes down to touch his toes. 

He keeps going until Dick finally groans, the drugs wearing off hours later. 

Though, it feels sooner than normal. Maybe Dick's accidentally built a tolerance and the doses are starting to wear off quicker. 

Whatever the case, Dick groaning out of a nauseating trip is the sign for Jason to finally sit down and curl up the best he can on his side. He watches Dick's twitching fingers. Listens to his small whimpers and noises of confusion. He sits there and watches Dick be alive until his eyes fall closed and he doesn't dream of Dick being still. Dead. Next to the body of his mom while his dad (Bruce?) screamed about how Jason's a failure and he should have stopped it. 

He falls asleep, wakes up a little while later, and the day repeats. 

-o-o-o-o-

"How long…?"

"I think… thirteen days?"

"…"

"Nightwing?"

"N-nothing. It just… it just…"

"Hurts?"

"Yeah… it- I- everything just really- b-but I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

"… You don't have to lie to me. I know. I understand."

"Sorry… I just…  _ hngh- fuck _ "

"…"

"…"

"Is it… getting worse or-?"

"Ca-can we talk about something else?"

"Yeah. Sure, big bird. I'm okay to talk about something else."

They talk about something else for about fifteen minutes, both of them persistently  _ not _ talking about drugs or withdrawal or addiction or dead mom's and angry deadbeat dads. They also don't talk about Bruce, because while Jason's still holding out hope that Bruce will come for them, Jason's pretty sure Dick doesn't. 

But it's okay. Jason will hope for the two of them.

Twenty minutes pass before Dick simply can't keep a conversation anymore. The stuff he's one must be strong. Severe. The kind of stuff someone like Black Mask would sell. The stuff that would get you so deep on its hooks that you'll lose your job, house, family, everything just to have a single more drop in your system. 

Thirty minutes pass. Then more. And Jason sits quietly as Dick falls apart.

It's not even close to lunch yet.

-o-o-o-o-

Something finally changes on what Jason's pretty sure is day fifteen. He knows something has changed when lunch passes without a single visitor. He knows something has changed when the time ticks ever onwards and Jason's left clutching his completely empty stomach and watching Dick suffer. Cry. Writhe. Gag.

He knows something's finally changed when the door finally opens, but it's a long time after lunch; and yet still a little while before dinner.

He knows something hasn't changed for the good when their captors enter in a group of six instead their usual three or four. 

He knows somethings definitely changed for the worse when they surround Dick like a pack of hungry cultists around some poor virgin.

"What are you doing?" Jason demands, standing up and walking forward as far as his chains will allow. It's not very far. He's not even within kicking distance of the closest person. 

One of the kidnappers reach into their cloak and brings out that stupid syringe. However, instead of immediately injecting it into Dick's practically torn apart arm, they hold it above Dick's head. 

Jason feels like he's swallowed something sour when Dick immediately stills. 

Oh. 

Jason understands now. 

"Tell us the name of Batman, and we'll let you have it," the person says. Voice is deep, probably male, but Jason doesn't care. All he cares about is that the man waves the syringe back and forth above Dick's bound form like it's a bone and Dick is a very, very desperate dog. 

"You sick bastards," Jason breathes. He can't... even process how much he hates this. It's not fair. Addictions shouldn't be… used against someone like this. They've patiently worked Dick to this point, and then they're going to give Dick a choice between something he never wanted but feels like he needs… or something he cannot tell. "You fucking  _ fuckers _ ."

Jason goes completely ignored. By the kidnappers because they've been ignoring Jason this long, why stop now. By Dick because he's too focused on watching the syringe and licking his chapped lips. 

Finally, Dick speaks, and Jason really wishes he hadn't. 

"P-please…" 

"Tell us who Batman is," the man repeats and Dick immediately dissolves into pathetic sobs.

"Please… puh-please… I- I  _ can't- _ "

Dick jerks in his restraints, like he wants to jump forward and stab the needle into his own arm himself. 

The man repeats his question and Jason finally has enough. 

"HEY! YOU CULT WANNABES!" He shouts, tugging on his restraints and snarling. "Get the fuck away from him or I'll tear your throats out!"

"Batman's name, Nightwing. Then you can have this."

"N-no- st-stop- I don't-"

"Listen to me! Stop ignorin' me!" Jason tugs harder on the chains, but all he succeeds in doing is breaking the scabs next to the biting metal, allowing blood to flow down his filthy wrists. "Don't listen to them, N! Ya don't want it!"

And for the first time, one of the kidnappers turns to face Jason. They walk forward so suddenly that Jason takes a startled step back. Before Jason knows it, his cheek is stinging from a vicious slap he didn't expect. He doesn't get a chance to recover from it either, because suddenly his wrists are grabbed and the tethering chain is hooked onto something high above his head against the wall. Something he hasn't even noticed till now. Jason struggles to place his footing as he finds himself almost hanging by his wrists; helpless to the kidnapper as they shove a strip of tape over his mouth.

Effectively gagged, Jason goes back to being ignored while the kidnapper returns to the others surrounding Dick. 

Jason growls and tugs in the chains, but he goes nowhere. 

He can only hang there and watch as they continue to wave that stupid dose of drugs above Dick's head, asking the same question over and over again with the same steady, manipulative voice. 

Jason's seen Dick cry many times these past several days, but never as desperate and broken as this. Jason sorta hopes that Dick just… throws everything away to tell them Bruce's name. Just so this could end. Just so they'll give Dick what he needs so his body will stop torturing itself.

"Br- n-no-"

"Batman's  _ name _ ."

Dick shuts his eyes and shakes his head, tears escape the corners of his mask as he twitches and chokes on gags. 

The kidnappers seem to be getting impatient now. The man holding the syringe sighs then bends forward and presses the tip of the needle on the inside of Dick's arm. Dick jolts like he's been electrocuted, his eyes flying open and the tears doubling as the needle enters the already severely scarred area of skin. The man doesn't press down on the needle and Dick  _ wails _ .

Jason feels like he's going to throw up. 

This is so sick. So messed up. He wants to scream but all he can do is throw himself against the chains and slam his back uselessly against the wall. He tries to work the tape off his mouth, but he can't quite move his jaw or tongue the way he wants to.

"Batman's name, Nightwing. And make sure it's honest, otherwise we have smaller needles for smaller people."

Well, at least Jason knows why he's here now. 

The bad thing is, it works. Dick shutters around the needle in his arm and chokes back another sob. "Ok-kay- d-don't- hurt Robin- kay- okay-"

Jason falls still. There's nothing he can do. At least, when Dick tells who Batman is, he won't be in so much pain anymore. But that's only if the kidnappers actually decide to let him have the dose.

"Name, Nightwing. We don't have all day."

"-kay- I- n-name… bah- Bru-"

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Jason sags against his restraints in sheer, knee numbing relief. None other than Batman makes it in the nick of time to slug the closest bad guy straight across the jaw. The kidnappers go down hard, and immediately the rest are scrambling to figure out if they should fight or run. 

Batman doesn't give them a choice.

In a terrifying series of events every single kidnapper in the room ends up in crumpled heaps on the floor. Without a single pause, Batman stalks towards Dick. Jason doesn't have a single chance to stop him before he grabs the still full needle in Dick's arm, and  _ rips _ it out before tossing it across the room. Dick goes perfectly still for a single moment, ridged like his body is desperately trying to figure out what to do. Then, he completely falls apart. 

Bruce stills as if he has no idea why Dick is reacting this way.

Jason has enough. 

"Rrs!" Jason shouts behind the tape, tugging on the shackles so hard he feels a streak of heat travel down both of his arms. Blood is dripping from his elbows by the time Bruce rushes over to Jason and picks him loose. 

The moment Jason's hands are free, he doesn't even bother to rip off the tape on his mouth. He ducks under Bruce's arms towards the disregarded syringe. Thankfully, it's not broken and it's still full. Jason wipes off the needle with the torn remains of his cape as he rushes back towards Dick.

Bruce makes a noise of both shock and questioning when Jason jams the needle into the inside Dick's elbow, pushing in the liquid until only a few drops are left. 

Dick lets out a few more sobs, but slowly relaxes, then goes completely still. It's eerie. Jason feels like he's going to be sick. 

He pulls the needle out and holds it in his shaking hand. He reaches the other to his mouth to rip off the tape, blinking tears from his eyes. Maybe from the sting of tape. Maybe from guilt. 

Either way, he looks at Bruce and holds out the syringe.

"It's not his fault," he whispers. "It's not."

"Robin…" Bruce says slowly, taking the syringe. 

"It's not… he… he tried to fight it- but they- and he-"

Bruce suddenly wraps Jason into a hug while Jason finally shatters. 

But a good kind of shatter. The kind of shatter that makes you feel like you can make a stained glass window with broken beer bottles and string. 

Dick's not okay. Jason's not okay. Neither of them are anything close to okay. 

But Bruce is here. He came, even though Jason went against his wishes and went to visit Dick. Even though Dick and Bruce are still fighting. He came. 

And it will only get better from here. Jason knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! i would be eternally grateful if you mayhaps left a comment? every comment is a penny added into the "give Dick Grayson a hug" jar.


End file.
